


We are Nowhere, And it's Now

by Sleigh



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Reincarnation, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, brief Winter Solider!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6802186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleigh/pseuds/Sleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Steve loves Bucky, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he's Captain America, sometimes he's The Winter Solider. But always, Bucky loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are Nowhere, And it's Now

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the wonderful comic 25 Lives by Tongari. It's directly quoted here. If you haven't read it yet, I would highly suggest reading this short comic before reading this fic. You can find it here: http://s2b2.livejournal.com/142934.html

**The very first time I remember you, you are blonde, and you don’t love me back.**

“Steve…” Bucky can see it in his face, he knows what’s going to happen when Steve opens his mouth. His chest clenches. He looks away, running a hand through his hair.

“I…” Steve isn’t looking either. His eyes are wide, unfocused. He swallows, folding his hands on top of Bucky’s kitchen table. “I didn’t know you…”

“Hey. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Bucky thinks about reaching over, patting Steve’s hands. But maybe it won’t be taken as comforting and instead will be taken as him being forward. He knows Steve won’t react badly, he knows. But the thought of Steve feeling awkward around him, no longer depending on him… Bucky takes an unsteady breath. “Forget I said anything.”

“You know I can’t just pretend this never happened.” Steve glances up, hesitantly. “I don’t want to ignore something important to you. If you love me...”

Bucky lets out a small sigh, leaning back in his chair, opening his mouth to say something, then closing it. “Listen, it’s really not... “ He doesn’t know what to say. “Being friends with you is more important to me than anything, okay?” He makes eye contact with Steve, giving him an uneasy smile. “Let’s put this behind us.”

Steve frowns. He looks at Bucky like he has something to say, then his slim shoulders slump and he looks back at the table, shaking his head slightly. “All right. If that’s what you want."

Bucky continues the forced smile. “Thanks, pal.”

 

**The next time you are brunette, and you do.**

Bucky has no idea where he is. His vision is blurry, he feels dizzy and sick, like he’s going to puke as soon as he stands. He remembers the last few hours with a sudden jolt, the torture, the screaming, but he forgets it all when he realizes the person that woke him up is Steve.

“Steve?”

“Bucky,” Steve barely whispers his name. “It’s me. It’s Steve.”

Bucky squints. “...Steve?” Steve pulls him to his feet and he wobbles, still staring at Steve, who is suddenly taller, bigger. Bucky looks him up and down. “I thought you were smaller.” His voice sounds raspy, from the screaming. Steve has always been small, every time he’s known him, every time they’ve been through this loop.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve murmurs, something fragile in his voice, his blue eyes so sad, and all in one moment he places one of his hands against the back of Bucky’s head and pulls him into a rough kiss.

Bucky is too stunned to react, still too dazed from everything he’d just been through. But once he steadies himself, once his mind catches up, he closes his eyes. He wraps his arms tight around Steve, kissing him back with just as much force, until Steve pulls away.

“H-How are you… is any of this really happening?” Bucky mumbles, but Steve grabs his arm and starts pulling him out the door, his face adorably red.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise. But first I need to get you out of here.”

 

**After a while, I give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything, because even when you don’t exist, I’m always in love with you.**

By all means, Bucky knows he should be completely smitten with Peggy Carter. She’s gorgeous, brilliant, strong and brave. But when he kisses her, he doesn’t feel sparks or passion or anything in his chest. He finds himself feeling oddly hollow. He’s always felt this way, no matter what girl he’s with.

“Um.” She looks away first after their kiss, her hands still on his shoulders. Her lips are pursed and her body is tense. Bucky is certain he must look and feel the same way to her.

“So…” He doesn’t know how to admit to a beautiful girl that he felt nothing kissing her. It would be insulting for starters, and…

“Did you feel that?” Peggy asks, looking up at Bucky. She’s frowning, her eyebrows knit.

Bucky takes a breath, then swallows. “Uh… by “that” did you mean nothing at all?”

Peggy’s face relaxes. “Yes. Exactly.” She tilts her head slightly to the side. “I feel as if… there’s something missing.”

“Kind of like you left the stove on and you can’t go back and turn it off?” Bucky cracked a smile.

Peggy looked up at him, smiling. “Strangely enough, yes.” She lets out a small sigh, through her nose. “I feel that… maybe we aren’t the right people for each other.” She drops her hands to her sides and takes a step back.

“Yeah.” Bucky is so relieved by her reaction that he can’t stop smiling. “You’re right. But hey, maybe we just haven’t met our special person yet, right?”

Peggy will surely find a nice man and have a wonderful life, Bucky has no doubt. But Bucky already knows who his special person is, and in this lifetime he doesn’t exist.

 

**I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we got to grow up together, when you share you secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me.**

Bucky spends a lot of time wondering if Steve ever cried. He’d scrape his knees, get stung by bees, get clocked by the neighborhood bullies, and never shed a tear. He was brave, so brave, to the point that sometimes Bucky feels a pang of jealousy. Steve is tiny, but he is the strong one. Bucky never has any doubt. It’s a constant, no matter what color Steve’s hair is, no matter what details change; his bravery is something that’s always a part of him.

Steve is the one who suggests exploring an abandoned building a few blocks from their houses, a home that was ravaged by fire a few months ago but had yet to be demolished. He runs down the street towards it, a mess of summer freckles and scraped knees, and the most brilliant smile, with a front tooth missing. Bucky keeps up easily but he doesn’t want Steve to get that impression, so he fakes being as worn out as Steve by the time they arrive.

“Whoa…” Steve’s eyes are wide as they sneak inside. A breeze makes the building creak and Bucky feels a twinge of panic, but Steve just smiles even brighter. He makes his way to the burnt out kitchen, blackened and skeletal, still smelling heavily of ash.

Steve’s worn shoes are dusted black, and his fingertips are marred by ashes from running his fingers along everything in sight. Bucky keeps glancing up at the ceiling, wondering if it’ll fall in on them.

“Buck, wanna hear a secret?” Steve says suddenly, whirling around on Bucky. He speaks like he’s in the middle of a ghost story.

Bucky grins. He’s missing a tooth too, but it’s already growing back in. “Tell me.”

Steve tempts fate and leans against a wall, getting ashes all over his back. “I’ll tell you, but you gotta tell me one too!”

“Fine,” Bucky’s smile doesn’t fade. “You have to tell me first.”

Steve is beaming. “My dad said he’s gonna take me to Coney Island! We’re gonna go to Luna Park, and we’re gonna ride the Canals of Venice!”

Bucky opens his mouth and closes it again. Steve’s dad promised Steve a lot of things when he had been drinking, and most of the time those things never happened. He’s a good man, but he doesn't often follow through on the grand plans he makes with Steve. Bucky forces a smile. “Cool!”

“I know!” Steve is radiant in that moment, as bright as the sun. Bucky wants to move closer to him, but he stays put. “You gotta tell me yours now.”

Bucky frowns, thinking. He pauses for a moment. “I like someone!”

Steve’s mouth falls open, his eyes go wide. “Who? Tell me!”

Bucky’s mouth starts to feel dry, as dry as this smelly building. He hadn’t thought this through. “It’s…”

Steve moves closer, so Bucky can see every freckle on his face. “Who is it?”

“Doris. Doris Grey.” It was a lie. She’s just a girl who lives a few doors down, that Bucky barely knows beyond her name.

“Wow.” Steve buys it. “She’s really lucky!” He laughs, and Bucky wonders if he should’ve told the truth.

 

**I love how you play along with my bad ideas, before you grow up and realize they’re bad ideas. (And in our times together I have many, many bad ideas.)**

Steve always started the fights, and Bucky always finished them. That’s just how it had always been. But Steve still has the decency in him to be able to turn the other cheek. He only fights when he truly believes in it, always over things bigger than himself. Steve is able to ignore personal attacks against his size, his looks, anything.

Bucky is not that good of a person. He’s watched Steve get beat up, get insulted, for so many lifetimes over. He won’t take it anymore.

He has blood smeared across his knuckles. His hands ache. But he doesn’t stop punching, not when blood dots the hot sidewalk, not when that sniveling bully who’s been tormenting Steve begs him to stop, not when he feels Steve’s slim hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away. He’ll protect Steve. He’ll be there for Steve. He’ll do anything in the world for him, whether he likes it or not.

“Bucky!” Steve keeps shouting his name. He keeps tugging on him. Bucky’s arm is tired. He’s gritting his teeth so hard that they ache.The bully isn’t talking anymore, he’s barely making a whine. His face isn’t going to be the same after today.

“Bucky, please.”

Bucky hesitates, his fist still raised, blood dripping from his fingers. He’s breathing heavily. There’s blood all over his shirt.

“Bucky,” Steve repeats, his hands firm on Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky stands. He tries to shake the blood off his hands, but they’re stained red. “Sorry,” he mutters, turning away from the man on the ground. “Sorry, Steve.”

 

**When we meet as adults you’re much more discerning. I don’t blame you.**

Bucky can tell. He’s not an idiot. The way Agent Carter looks at Steve is the way so many girls had looked at him before, and Steve looks back in a way that… well…

It’s the way Bucky has been looking at him for centuries.

They chat like Bucky isn’t even there. Like they only have eyes for each other. He swallows, looks down at his feet. He breathes in and out. Peggy leaves, and Bucky watches Steve watch her go. He feels vaguely sick.

“She didn’t even look at me.” Bucky cracks a fake smile, nudging Steve gently with his elbow. He wouldn’t let Steve know. He couldn’t. “It’s like I’m invisible. I’m turning into you.”

Steve looks back at him and smiles so warmly, and it’s like the weight of the world is on Bucky’s shoulders, just for a moment, just with that smile focused on him. “Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she has a friend.”

Steve is lighthearted and Bucky forces a short laugh. He’s gotten good at faking his emotions, after all those years of trying to act tough and brave around Steve when they were kids. “Yeah. Maybe.” He’d let Steve believe he was interested in that, if that’s what would get both of them through. But the thought of growing old again without Steve makes him sick.

**Yet always, you forgive me. As if you understand and you’re making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist, or the ones where we just barely ever meet.**

The girl clinging to Bucky’s arm is named Julia. She has dark brown curls, pretty hazel eyes with long eyelashes. Bucky knows he’s supposed to be feeling butterflies in his stomach right now, but he’s not. He should probably want to kiss her, but he doesn’t. He watches Howard Stark’s flying car for the millionth time, but doesn’t pay much attention to the performance or Julia. He’s zoning out.

Dancing, she says. She wants to go dancing. Bucky puts on a smile. “Sure, let’s go.” Her hands are warm on his arm, and she has a smile that could light up a room. He knows he should be falling for her. He knows how men are supposed to feel with women.

He’ll pretend to be an ordinary man until he finally is one, however long that takes. He’ll pretend he loves Julia, that he misses her dearly. He’ll write her letters from Italy. That’s what all the other men will be doing, right?

Bucky and Julia pass by a man in the crowd, and Bucky nearly trips over his own feet. They make eye contact for just a split second, Bucky’s eyes meeting his, the most brilliant blue. He’s short, blonde, and Bucky has seen him before. _Steve._

Julia is still tugging him along, eager to dance. She smiles up at Bucky, but he’s still looking back in the crowd. Steve has disappeared, and Bucky begins to wonder if he was really there at all.

 

**I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.**

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Bucky still wants Steve back. He wants the two of them to walk out of this, to live ordinary, happy lives. He wants so desperately to save Steve, to make up for all the lifetimes where Steve has saved him instead.

But Steve hasn’t been Steve since the war. Steve is the Winter Soldier now, and Bucky doesn’t know if he can bring him back.

“Your name is Steve Rogers.”

“Shut up!”

That metal arm hurts like a bitch, and Steve is pummeling him with it. This is the first time Bucky is on the receiving end of it. “I’m Bucky, I grew up with you. I’ve grown up with you a hundred times. I’m your friend.” Bucky tries to block his face, but he can’t bring himself to hit Steve back.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “You’re my mission,” he hisses, slamming his fist into Bucky’s face again and again.

Everything hurts. Bucky can taste blood in his mouth. He feels like he’s going to lose consciousness at any moment. Had he hit Steve this hard, all the times when their roles were reversed? He’s barely is able to focus on Steve, but he manages to look into his eyes. They look so strange, filled with malice. “Then finish it,” he murmurs. “Because I’m with you until the end of the line.”

Steve hesitates. He stares down at Bucky with his metal arm raised, a bewildered expression on his face. His messy hair flies around his face in the heavy wind. Bucky can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He closes them, there’s the sensation of falling, and then nothing.

If Steve bothers to drag him out of the river, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t wake up.

 

**But when all’s said and done, I’d rather surrender to you in other ways.**

Bucky’s name is still on Steve’s lips. He whispers it. He murmurs it. Bucky doesn’t care how he says it as long as he doesn’t stop.

He presses long, thoughtful kisses along Steve’s jaw, then leaves a trail of more of them down his neck. He ghosts his fingers down Steve’s bare sides, and Steve shivers. For a moment, Bucky wonders if it’s from his touch or if it’s only because his metal hand is cold.

No, he’s pretty smooth. He knows that.

Steve’s breath hitches as Bucky places a firm kiss in the space between his throat and his collarbone. Bucky smiles against his skin. “I love you, you know.” He murmurs, his voice low, his breathing soft against Steve’s skin. He leaves another kiss in the same place, and runs his fingers down Steve’s thighs.

“I love you too,” Steve whispers. He raises a hand and runs his fingers through Bucky’s messy hair. “I love you.”

Bucky tilts his head up to look at Steve, a lopsided smile on his face. “You’d better.” He lifts a hand and places it on Steve’s neck, then leans in and kisses him. He tries to savor this moment. It makes all the past rejections worth it.  

 

**Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder, is this the last time? Is that really you?**

He knows him.

Bucky doesn’t know where or when they met, but when he sees Steve’s face it’s like he’s struck by lightning. He never forgets the faces of his victims, but when he sees Steve he doesn’t remember blood or gore or unfortunate “accidents”. He remembers fingers twined together, shared vanilla ice cream cones, funerals and fights and the feeling of Steve’s lips brushing against his. He remembers the sound of the words, “I love you” whispered against his neck.

Steve. _Steve_.

Bucky feels like he has a migraine. Something is wrong in his head, so terribly wrong. He’s going to throw up, or pass out. He hand, his real flesh and bone hand, begins to shake. He freezes on the spot.

“Bucky?” Steve repeats.

“Who…” Bucky can barely speak. He suddenly feels vulnerable with his face bare, like Steve is scrutinizing his every feature, like Steve has noticed that he’s broken into a sweat, that he’s gone pale, that his eyes keep desperately searching Steve for some kind of answer.

Steve takes a step closer and Bucky visibly flinches, raising his gun on instinct. “Don’t.” His eyes are wide, terrified. He feels like a coyote caught in a trap, desperate enough to chew off its own leg. He’s scared. He’s so scared. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Do you remember me? It’s Steve.” Steve stays back, his arms half-raised. He looks like he’s just been punched in the gut, but it’s been at least ten minutes since Bucky last did that.

Bucky hears someone yelling in his ear, berating him. They’re going to make him suffer for this, but he feels rooted to the ground. “...Steve?”

Relief takes over Steve’s features. The corner of his lips twitch upwards, just slightly. “Do you remember me?”

Bucky’s mouth is dry. His eyes keep darting around, searching for some sort of answer, somewhere. There isn’t one. “Stop,” he whispers. He glares at Steve. Why is he feeling like this? What’s happening to him? “Stop!”

Steve’s new best friend, the guy with the wings, kicks Bucky over, knocking him face first onto the ground. Somehow, Bucky isn’t even angry. He knows that if Sam didn’t stop him, he would’ve killed Steve and never realized who he was.

 

**And what if you’re perfectly happy without me?**

Steve kisses her. It’s probably brief, but to Bucky it feels like it lasts an eternity. He would mutter a curse, but Sam is there. He glares daggers at them both instead, before averting his gaze and glaring at the car door instead.

He shouldn’t feel this way. He should be happy for Steve. But he can’t find it in himself to put on a smile, crack a joke, anything. Maybe the old Bucky could, the one that hadn’t been to hell and back, over and over so many times he’d lost count. The Bucky that hadn’t continually relived years of torture, a dozen rejections, hundreds of murders he didn’t want to commit, is probably still inside him, somewhere. But now he’s buried too deep under mountains of baggage and bad memories.

Steve gets back in the car and Bucky is still simmering. He flexes his fingers, the metal ones, over and over. He stares out the window. Once again, he’s not good enough.

Sam smiles. “So?” He claps Steve on the shoulder and Steve smiles sheepishly, blushes a little.

“It’s nothing,” Steve says. “C’mon.”

Sam is a good friend, Bucky thinks. Steve has been in good hands with him. Bucky taps his fingers on the door, unable to keep still. He wonders if Sam is the kind of person Steve would fall for. He wonders if Steve could’ve fallen for him, if maybe he was born as a pretty girl and if the whole Hydra assassin thing hadn’t happened. Maybe if he didn’t have all this weight attached to him.

He wonders if there’s any universe, any magical cosmic alignment, in which Steve will finally love him back, permanently.

 

**Ah, but I don’t blame you. I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you.**

“Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

Steve’s cheeks tinge pink. He looks a little flustered, but he still nods to the cheering crowd.

Bucky looks at Steve, really looks at him. Steve, his Steve, is a hero. Steve saved him again. Steve saved everyone. And now they were all seeing in him how Bucky had seen him from day one.

His chest feels warm. He’s so proud he can hardly stand it. Somewhere in his stomach he feels a twist of jealousy, but he ignores it.

Bucky pats Steve on the back and Steve looks at him. Bucky smiles at him, he looks at him as if Steve’s the center of his whole universe, because he is. He doesn’t care who’s watching, so he pulls Steve into a tight hug.

“You deserve this,” he tells Steve, knowing he’s going to say it’s too much or that he didn’t do anything special. “You’re amazing, you know.”

Steve doesn’t protest. He lays his head on Bucky’s shoulder in silence.

Is this the day Steve realizes he’s too good for Bucky? Is this the day he he no longer needs Bucky anymore? Bucky doesn’t want to think about it. But no matter how much he tries to push it out, it’s still in the back of his mind. Is he going to be alone again?

 

**It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes, until I find the one where you’ll return to me.**

“Steve…”

Steve’s face scrunches up a little. He rolls over on his side. “What time is it?”

Bucky places a kiss on Steve’s temple. “Time to wake up.” The bedroom blinds are closed, but little streaks of sunshine have escaped, shining on the foot of the bed.

Steve smiles, his eyes still closed. “No, seriously.” His voice is sleepy. Bucky thinks it's the sweetest thing.

“Seven.” Bucky runs his fingers down Steve’s temple, to his jaw.

Steve opens his eyes, the most brilliant blue with those little flecks of green.

Bucky smiles. “Good morning.” He leans in and kisses Steve softly, just for a moment, then pulls away again. “If I tell you something crazy, will you still hear me out?”

“Go ahead.” Steve sits up in their bed, and Bucky sits up too.

“I’ve been here before.” Bucky watches Steve, waiting for his reaction. “In this exact moment.”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but Bucky cuts him off. “You’re going to ask what I mean. I know, you’ve said it before.” He links his fingers with Steve’s without much thought. “I mean, I’ve been repeating the same life over and over.”

Steve opens his mouth to speak again, then closes it on his own. “What?”

“Getting-- going to war.” The Steve in this loop doesn’t know he was drafted. “Getting captured by Hydra. Becoming the Winter Soldier. Fighting you. Fighting Tony. I’ve done it all already a hundred times.”

Steve is silent, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Bucky tilts his head to the side, thinking. He stares at a window, his eyes unfocused. “Sometimes you kill me and sometimes I kill you. Sometimes your hair is a different color. Most of the time, you don’t love me.”

“Bucky…” He’s never brought this up before, so Bucky doesn’t know what Steve is going to say. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Steve leans closer, his eyes full of concern. “How long has this been going on?”

Bucky shrugs. “I lost track.” He looks down at their entwined fingers. “But every time, I’ve been in love with you.”

Steve looks upset, and Bucky wonders if he shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m sorry,” Steve says, barely above of whisper. “If I had known…”

Bucky looks at Steve’s downcast eyes, waiting for Steve to look back up at him. “It’s over, it doesn’t matter now. But next time I’ll look for you. I always will.” He takes a deep breath as Steve looks up again. “Look for me too.” He pauses. “...Please.”

Steve smiles just a little, a sad kind of smile. “I will. I’ll find you next time, and I’ll love you.” He leans close, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “I won’t let you go through this alone. I’m with you until the end of the line, right?”

And Steve is with him, always.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Stucky or MCU fic in general so I'm really nervous, please go easy on me! I would love comments but I'm not really looking for hardcore crit at this time, thank you! 
> 
> I'm a writer by trade so usually when I do fic I do it for fun I just half-ass it and post crap I wrote at 4am, but this had many revisions and a lot of my heart and soul was put into it, so hopefully that shows... or I just made it obvious why I can't get any good writing gigs lmao. Oops. (side note: pls hire me)
> 
> Fic title is from an album by Bright Eyes that came out when I was an impressionable emo middle schooler.
> 
> Thank yous:  
> Jocelyn for being the coolest editor ever and giving me lots of good advice and helping me edit through many hours and MANY drafts  
> Johnny for staying up til 6 am with me giving me ideas and feedback, I scored big time getting a bf who supports my fanfic life  
> Christian for giving me crit without ripping me a new asshole (which you totally could've) and giving me really good points to work with  
> Will for giving me the confidence to finally post this thing lol  
> Radiohead for dropping a fire new album that has been A+ writing music


End file.
